Chapter 8: Re-emergence

Ladies and gentlemen of the Senate, The President of These United States! Mr. President Sylvester Wayne Abbot!

“Thank you ladies and gentlemen, Senators. Appointed delegates to the combined Senate of the States, Electoral College, and perpetually in session, Convention of States. I am extremely honored to be your guest and to be allowed to address you this evening, in this historic chamber.

After the recent re-establishment of government, and the Convention of States abolishment of both houses of congress, the States, created by constitutional amendment and established this Senate of the States, and you are it’s esteemed body of members. The only powers allocated and delegated to you are, amendment proposals for consideration by the States, casting your State’s electoral votes for electing the President, confirming the three Supreme Court Justices for term extensions, and ratifying of treaties.

I wish to suggest, implied in the power of ratification of treaties is the power to De-ratify obsolete treaties. I call upon this august body to De-ratify the Kellogg-Briand Pact sometimes called the Pact of Paris of 1928. This treaty caused many wars, beginning with, and including World War II, and was an idiotic social-engineering experiment that, like so many other social-engineering wrong ideas, failed miserably. It should be, must be abolished, for goodness sakes, for sake of our economy and national security!

I ask that These United States withdraw from that treaty! Allow our great nation AGAIN, the natural, logical, and historical power of conquest and annexation of territories, once more! Accepted, honored, and indulged in, though most of history, conquest is a national right! Let us return to basic values again! We have victoriously completed yet another expensive war in the middle east. Repudiating this treaty, will allow us to recoup our expenses and recompense our valiant troops, by the taking of spoils, including lands and territory. Rebuilding our enemies is another expensive social mistake we cannot afford to continue! Let us instead, conquer them and collect tribute as is our just and ancient due! Please contact your home legislatures without delay, for instruction! Thank you! Ms. Vice President? I surrender my remaining time.”

“Hey Doc! Checking the sat-phone as we scheduled. How’s it out on the farm?” Olé greeted his friend over the satellite phone.

“Hey there yourself, Olé!” Doc was pleased to hear his voice. “We are just fine. Did you actually get your beer delivery in time?”

“Now that’s a story in it’s self, Doc!” Olé chuckled.

“I’m listening.” Doc could hear muted background conversation. “Still listening. Who’s there with you? I saw most of the camp skedaddle even before I did, and I thought I was in a hurry! When the dust cloud dissipated, only you and I remained!” Doc laughed and was curious.

“Just Bella and me here, Doc.” Olé explained.

“Really, I’m surprised she stayed! I’m more surprised you let her!” Doc had a pretty good idea, how Olé could be convinced to permit Bella to remain hanging around. “Glad you don’t have to drink alone, Buddy. You should never drink alone, Olé! You get too maudlin and drink too much when you’re sad.”

“Well, I’m not alone now, Doc. Ain’t sad, neither. Don’t worry about me. Bella is good for me and plans to stay. You know I’m just a sucker for a lady in distress. That scumbag Warren Norman and his crew abandoned her. Seems out there camping in the box canyon, Ms. Bella Jugosa became the camp’s only source of entertainment. Even unwashed, she was still a star attraction out there. All of them were pretty ripe when they came to ask for their car again. Had to keep upwind of them. Bella’s celebrity status died, changed for the worse, after they got their wheels back. They spoke most unkindly to her and about her. Rejected her pleas to ride out with them. Never heard worse words said to any woman. The scum!”

“Did the Norman group call her that, use her name, Bella Jugosa?”

“Nah! Not even Bella, wouldn’t hardly say even her first name. Nasty things they said about her. More often, called her horrible things.” Olé sounded sad.

“So, she told you herself, her name is Bella Jugosa?” Doc suggested.

“Yeah. Told me she’s been married and divorced so many times, she can’t remember her maiden name. Tied the knot more times than I did. Always unraveled though, same as for me. Doesn’t want to use any of the ex’s names, so she picked Jugosa for herself. Said she like the sound of it. Inspired by watching Bela Lugosi in an old vampire film. Liked the sound of his name.” Olé explained.

“You don’t speak Spanish, do you Olé.” Statement, not a question.

“Good enough. “Otra cerveza frio, por favor! Donde es el sanitario? Puta madre! Pendejo! Cuanto? A couple more.” I know the most important survival words!”

“HmmmHmmm, sure you do!” Doc acknowledged. “And the two of you are getting along just swimmingly?”

“Oh, yeah! You know beer ALWAYS tastes better when someone else fetches it for you. (She’s a waitress, sabe?)” Doc imagined Olé cupping the mouth piece for this aside. “Anyway, we’re a great team. She sweeps up, wipes the place down and picks up after me, fetches my beers. She’s so easy to please. Doesn’t want anything other than me, she says. She is sweet and very talented! I swap out and service the generators, do the cooking and take the garbage to the dump. She won’t go near that place!”

“That’s nice, Olé. Nice for both of you. Very happy for you both. So, come on, out with it. What’s with the beer delivery story?”

“Oh, yeah! I forgot about it when we started talking about my Bella! Hard for me to not think about her! Anyway, I called up the distributor, see? He already heard the Empress’ announcement. Hell, EVERYBODY did, I’m SURE, didn’t they? And he knew for damn certain, money wasn’t worth squat, not anymore. He also knew, he was sooner or later, probably sooner, destined to be looted. He was in a tight spot! He had all this product but didn’t have any paying customers anymore. So, I brokered an arms deal. Got ten truck loads of brew delivered. Driven right into the magazine bunker, and I bolted the doors! Also, he had this portable brewery kit, to test making new brews! I dickered for everything, the hops, the yeast, the complete microbrewery setup! Fantastic good luck, right?”

“Very astute of you, Olé. Congratulations. Hope you didn’t have to trade them nukes! You might want to consider using the bulldozer real soon! Bury that nuke magazine very deep!”

“Never even considered it, Doc! I would NEVER give anybody our nukes!” Olé was shocked and insulted. “I traded Wally two armored vehicles, a caisson trailer, some ammo, and small arms, infantry gear, stuff like that. Thought afterwards, about putting up a sign out front. ‘Sarge’s Military Surplus,’ but, what would people use for money? I’ll wait till thing calm down.”

“You gave them tanks?”

“Uh, You sound upset! Are you mad I gave them a tank? Only just the one! Just a 500 gallon fuel storage tank, we strapped onto the caisson, along with a reverse osmosis water filtration unit.” Olé assured her. “How is giving them a tank a bad idea?”

“What armored vehicles did you trade away, Olé?”

“An all wheel drive armored Scout-Command car and a six-by-six armored transport. Wally, the distributor, says he wants to convert it into a RV. Where is he going to get fuel to cruise?”

“Both the transport and scout have Ma Deuces mounted, so I gave them 2000 rounds of .50 cal. Also, some M60’s, M16’s, and a pile of ammo for those. And a dusty old case of use-by-but already expired M72s LAWs. Some Kevlar body armor, tents, jackets, blankets, and boots, clothing stuff. I let them pick over a loose pile, and take what they wanted. Good trade?” Anxious over Doc’s displeasure, Olé wanted reassurance and approval! “Sounds to me like you gave them a million or more worth of military hardware, for ten lousy loads of beer.”

“A million? Not even close, Doc. Maybe that’s what it cost the Govt new, but it’s all used gear. Most of it. Don’t forget the micro brewery is real valuable and rare. Don’t just find those lying around! And I kept the ten trucks and trailers. Now those could be worth a million! If highway shipping starts back up.”

“Another point in my favor, Doc! I didn’t have to offload the trucks. That alone, the time saved, was worth a lot! And again, I believe that micro brewery is going to be priceless! Before I’ve finished all the bottled beer, I will learn how to brew my own!”

“Really? You ordered and got ten loads of long-necks, Olé?”

“Of course! I plan way ahead, Doc. Can’t refill empty aluminum cans. Hahaha! Heehee!” Olé chortled, delighted with himself, he’d put one over on the distributor. Got the best of the deal! “Well, it’s late and I have chores still to do before bed, so I’m going to let you go, Olé.” Doc saw Morgan listening. “Wait! Hang on a minute Olé! “I’m talking with Olé, Morgan. Did you want to say hi?”

“Hi Olé.”

“Hello Morgan, my lil’ Buddy! How’s it hanging Sport?”

“Good.”

“Did you like the present your m ... Doc made for you?” Olé stuttered past the slip-up.

“Yeah! It’s a really cool gun!” Morgan happily expressed.

“Suppose, I need to visit you and remind you again the difference between a rifle and your gun!” Olé snickered.

“No, I remember. Are you coming for a visit? That would be ever so cool!”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on it. Not right now. There’s no one else to mind the fort, so I can’t just up and leave, not just at this moment.” Olé was apologetic.

“Oh. It would be great to see you, but I understand.” Morgan sorrowed. “But if you did come, I’d let you shoot my new gun some. It’s not a rifle though. You might not like it because it’s not a rifle.”

“If it’s not a rifle, what is it?” asked Olé.

“Skeet says really is a gun! An over and under combo gun. An air-gun-shotgun combination. The shotgun is a pump action 20 gauge in a bull-pup stock, but with a .25 cal HPA barrel on top. It’s not rifled but has a hop-up gizmo at the muzzle that makes it fly farther. Gets lift from the Magnus effect. I don’t understand what that is yet, but I believe Skeet. She says it’s like reverse English on a cue ball. Never seen that either.” Morgan struggled to explain concepts outside his experience.

“Sounds like a pretty special BB-gun.” Olé agreed.

“It’s a .25 cal. Olé. Not the BB caliber, though it does cock, and load, and is a repeater just like a BB-gun. It does use some real BB-gun parts in it.” corrected Morgan. “You know what else is pretty cool? This is REALLY cool! Skeet and I made this air trap at the waterfall pool, out of cast cement over some old rusty hog wire fence we rolled around and bent into shape. We plastered it all over inside and out, with cement. Looks like a big rocket with legs. The bottom is wide open. We used the backhoe to carry it down to the waterfall and lowered it into the pool until it sits on the bottom. Only the very top point shows. That’s where we connected the airline pipe and a valve. Air bubbles in the water get trapped inside and builds up a lot of pressure. Skeet says the waterfall, even though it’s not very high, aerates the water. We collect this compressed air into a scuba tank. I use the scuba tank to charge my gun at home!”

“There’s a nitrogen gas piston ram gets pulled back when I cock my gun. Compresses the bottled air even more, just exactly the second when I shoot. Makes it shoot really fast! Cool huh?” Doc tapped her watch and gave him the cutoff sign. “ Gotta go now. Bye Olé!” and Morgan was gone.

You have a very special kid there, Doc! Smart as they come. Are you ever going to tell him, you’re really his mom?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to disrupt and upset his entire world. I would need to be convinced that is a good idea, and I can’t envision that ever happening.” Doc was firm, and seemed content with her decision. Or resigned to it, at least.

“Does he know who his dad is?”

“Shut up, Olé! Morgan’s parents are my parents, and that’s what he’s been told!. That’s what he knows and relies on. This subject is closed and not to be mentioned again! Do you hear me, Olé?” Doc was suddenly upset and very, very adamant!

“Yes, Doc! Never again! I’ve got your back. I hear you!” Olé was about to apologize for treading on sore toes, but shut-up.

“Talk to you next week, Doc. If the sat-phones die, I’ll call you on 2182 KHz.”

After a minute, Doc replied, “Okay, Olé. Be good! Enjoy your beers. Oh! If you have time, check out that hangar, will you?” and they both rang off. Doc tidied up and hit the rack.